Interregnum (65 page)

It would be almost an hour later that a soldier, sent to find out why captain Terrico was late, would stumble into the tent and across the body of the captain lying in a pool of congealed blood and a note pinned to his chest. Five minutes later the note was in the hands of Lord Vassario, but not until after it had been seen by more than a dozen men. The parchment had simply said: ‘Darius Imperator. Thus die all tyrants.’

By the time the army reached their next night’s camp, Vassario’s army had lost almost four hundred men to desertion and the lord found himself in the command tent explaining the losses in a panicky voice to an angry Velutio.

And the word of the note had not stopped with Vassario’s men.

At the same time as Vassario was being berated by his master, the army of the Emperor Darius made camp in a deep valley of vineyards and farms, stretched out over some distance due to the slope of the terrain. Darius made his way into his command tent, which was still being set up. Soldiers of his personal guard carried chairs and tables and other furnishings in from one of the wagons as the Emperor sighed and gratefully unfastened the buckles that held his cuirass together. He lifted off the front and tossed it carelessly on the bed that had just been dropped to one side, before taking the rear plate and treating it much the same way. With a long stretch, he rubbed his sore shoulders and collapsed heavily into a chair.

Caerdin entered a moment later with Tythias and Balo. The general continued to look paler and weaker by the day and every time he set eyes on the man, he felt fresh waves of worry and sadness. Trying not to show it, he smiled and gestured to the other seats.

“I thought with all the extra time we’d made up and the travelling until dark had fallen, we were going to be at your chosen place by tonight.”

Kiva nodded. “We probably could have been with a couple of extra hours, but it’s no longer urgent. Tythias’ scouts report that Sabian’s army is still at least a day away and are camping down each night. We’re maybe two hours away. Under these circumstances, I’d rather we arrived early in the morning and the men could get a good idea of the terrain. Plus it’ll be a lot more comfortable drawing up our defences in the daylight. We’ll have all day to set up before Velutio arrives and we can have the entire army fortifying our position in rotated groups while the others rest and eat. Our force will be nicely rested and fully fortified by the time the enemy get there. All in all, I’m happy with the progress.”

“Good.” Darius smiled, reaching out for the jug of refreshments one of the soldiers had delivered. “I think we’re just about ready then, or as ready as we’ll ever be, anyway. Now what we need to do is discuss what’s going to happen on the day itself.”

Kiva relaxed. “Firstly we’re going to be in our absolute finest. Full ceremonial gear for all senior officers and all of your guard. That means no plain cuirasses. Embossed breastplates are a must. Full military cloaks, crests, standard bearers with all the banners and cavalry masks.”

“Cavalry masks?”

“They were worn in the old days by cavalry officers on parade and sometimes on the battlefield. Burnished steel face masks that attach to the helmets. Apart from the ‘scaring the hell out of the enemy’ effect they were originally designed for, it’s no secret now that I’m not a well man. I don’t want Velutio or Sabian, or even our men to see how death himself is leaning over my shoulder these days.”

Darius thought long and hard about this. He wasn’t sure how comfortable that would be, but there was a lot of sense in what the general said and he’d seen pictures in some of the old texts of the cavalry in their expressionless masks. They certainly would make a startling impression.

“Very well. And what next?”

Tythias leaned forward then.

“Next is the parlay. You and Kiva and I, along with any staff officers who don’t have direct command of a unit, ride along our front ranks a few times to get the men’s blood up and some cheering going. Banging of swords on shields and so on; you know the sort of thing. Then we all ride out to the middle of the battlefield and meet with Sabian and Velutio and whoever else they bring with them. We demand their surrender. They laugh and demand ours. We laugh and then we all go our separate ways. After that, it’s down to whatever strategy Kiva’s got lined up for us.”

Darius nodded. “And that is?”

Kiva smiled. “While we’re at the parlay, I’ve got something planned. Cialo and his men will be absent for that time running a very important little errand for me. If all goes well, we’ll all know what to do within minutes of the parlay ending. I’m not revealing the details yet. The more people that know about it, the less chance there is of it succeeding. If it works, we can all heave a sigh of relief.”

Darius grumbled.

“That’s all very well, Kiva, but what happens if it fails, or if you’re too ill to come out to the parlay. We have to know what’s going on in case we have to deal with it.”

Caerdin grinned weakly. “Let an old man have some surprises left. I’ve made it all this way and I can assure you, I’ve absolutely no intention of being out of the way until I’ve seen it through one way or the other. You’ll just have to trust me on that.”

Minister Sarios yawned and flicked open his eyes, rubbing at the gritty sleep that threatened to hold them shut. He turned his head this way and that in the bafflement one suffers after being suddenly awoken from a deep sleep. The hammering on the wooden tent frame came again. He clicked his tongue irritably and climbed laboriously out of his cot. Groaning, he shuffled towards the door, scratching at his side.

“Who’s that at this time of night?”

He unhooked the toggle and pulled back the leather tent flap to see Sathina standing silhouetted by the campfires that burned around the valley where tense soldiers tried to relax. Sarios blinked.

“Miss Sathina? What on earth are you doing up at this time. Only drunken soldiers are by now.”

Sathina smiled. “We’ve a favour to ask of you, minister.”

“We?” queried Sarios, and then noticed the shadowy and bulky shape standing to one side where the light of the campfires didn’t illuminate him. “Ah… that ‘we’. I see.” He sighed. “Well, you’d better come in.”

Leaving them to their own devices, the minister turned back to his tent and, reaching down to the small table in the centre, lit the oil lamp which slowly pushed back the shadows in the circular room. Three chairs sat close to the table and Sarios gestured to them as he slowly sat back on the side of his makeshift bed with a groan.

Tythias entered behind Sathina as the young lady made her way across to the seats.

“Sorry about the lateness, Sarios.” He grinned mischievously. “Did you know you wear virtually the same thing in bed as you wear in public?”

The smile fell from his face as Sathina elbowed him sharply in the ribs and the two took the seats.

“There’s a jug of water on the table and some apple juice on the cabinet at the back. If you would like to rummage inside, you may even find some plum brandy I brought from Isera.”

Again that smile crossed Tythias’ face until he caught sight of the expression on the girl’s face. ”Erm… water will be fine. Thank you minister.”

Sarios nodded and stretched out his legs. “Let me guess. You would like to be married and you’re both so excited that you couldn’t wait until the morning to talk to me. Am I correct?”

Sathina nodded as Tythias smiled and said “am I that transparent?”

“I’m afraid the two of you are no secret,” the minister replied with a gentle smile. “I’ve been wondering for some time when you would decide this.”

“So you’ll do it?” Sathina smiled.

“Yes and no,” the minister replied seriously. Ignoring the sudden looks of distress on the visitors’ faces, Sarios sighed. “I’d be pleased and honoured to marry you two, but your timing is wrong, I’m afraid. I have no doubt that you’re very committed to one another, but tomorrow or the next day the prefect here goes into battle and could very well die. I’m sorry to put such dark thoughts into your minds at this point, but you need to be aware of that.”

Tythias nodded. “It’s true and we’re both well aware of that, but it doesn’t change our minds.” Next to him Sathina nodded purposefully.

“I expect not,” replied the minister. “But I will not marry you on principal until after the battle is over. Once there is no danger, I would be pleased to do it, but I will not make a wife for a day when she could be a widow the next. It is not right.”

Tythias rumbled as he leaned forward.

“That’s a very reasonable and noble thing, Sarios, but unfortunately not enough. There are a dozen or more people spread among the units of this camp that could legally marry us, but we don’t want them to. We want you to.”

Sarios was opening his mouth to reply, shaking his head, as Sathina leaned forward.

“It has to be now, minister. I was hoping to break this in better circumstances, but I’m carrying Tythias’ child and I won’t let it be born without a legal father.”

Sarios stopped before he began and looked from Sathina to Tythias, who was staring at her, his mouth open and eyes wide. The minister smiled.

“I think that perhaps that puts an entirely different light on the matter. I do think you ought to have told the father before the priest, though.” He gave a light chuckle as he watched Tythias’ jaw flapping aimlessly. “I think we’ll arrange for something tomorrow afternoon if that fits in with your plans. I would suggest something tasteful and quiet with only a few friends rather than the entire army watching if I were you.”

Tythias tore his eyes away from Sathina and stared instead at the minister.

“She…” his voice tailed off as he returned his gaze to the woman by his side.

Sathina patted him on the arm. “I wasn’t going to tell you until after the battle. Didn’t want you to have something like that on your mind when you need to be concentrating on the job. Still, now I suppose you’ll have all the more reason to make sure you come back alive.”

Tythias continued to stare and the minister cleared his throat, standing slowly.

“This is obviously going to take you some time, my dear. I might as well stretch my legs for a few minutes now that I’m up. If you get sense out of him, just leave my tent unfastened and I’ll be back in a while.”

Smiling at them, he reached down to the cabinet and, moving a couple of containers out of the way, retrieved a bottle of his plum brandy. He poured a large measure into two exquisite glasses and placed them on the table before turning and walking out of his tent, carrying the rest of the bottle. He smiled beatifically. Even in the midst of tension and horror, hope and life had a way of springing up and reminding you that they were there. It had been pleasing to note that nothing, from the death of comrades or the prospect of earth-shattering war to the loss of an arm even fazed the prefect, but Sathina could floor him with only a few words.

His smile broadened as he walked slowly toward Sithis’ tent further along the valley. The swordsman would still be up and would surely welcome plum brandy and a little conversation.

Chapter XXXIV.

There were cheers and congratulations of course. Tythias and Sathina made an interesting couple to watch. She wore a beautiful azure blue dress, augmented with gold embroidery and jewellery and he wore his full uniform, weapons and all. Kiva laughed outrageously as the minister came to wrap the cloth and intertwine the couple’s arms only to find that they were an arm short and had to turn the prefect to face away from her so that they could be bound together in the traditional fashion. Darius gave his imperial blessing in a curiously embarrassed fashion, and Mercurias wished them a future of good health. All in all it was a short wedding in close company and full of good humour and there was a celebration planned immediately afterwards outside the command tent. In fact, Kiva and Darius had already informed the senior officers of each unit in the valley and amphorae of wine had been delivered to each quartermaster with orders for one drink only to be distributed to every man in the army.

Tythias and Sathina made their way arm in arm out of the tent and into the open of the Tosco valley, where the army of the Emperor Darius spread out from one spur of land to the other and half a mile deep. They had arrived four hours ago and the camp was already well fortified, ditches lined with sharpened stakes and small areas of strategically-placed palisades. Kiva had heaved a heavy sigh of relief once they had arrived and could manoeuvre into position on the high ground, having beaten Velutio to the site.

Soldiers cheered as the happy couple made their way a hundred yards or so to where a large open air table and benches had been set up. Wine and spirits stood in jugs on the table along with the very best supplies the quartermaster chief could come up with, especially since Athas had stood at his shoulder making grumbling sounds all through his planning. Behind the two of them came Sarios and then the Emperor with the rest of the staff and the members of the Wolves.

The party was approaching the table when a young soldier, out of breath, ran directly into the path of the bride and groom and stopped, rocking slightly and looking tremendously embarrassed.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir. My captain sent me to warn you that Velutio’s army has just been sighted at the bottom of the valley. They’ll be here in about an hour, sir.”

He glanced at the bride and blushed.

“Real sorry sir and congratulations from all the Fifth!”

Tythias smiled at the soldier. “Go back and get your wine soldier, or you’ll miss it. Velutio won’t do anything today. By the time they line up the light’ll be starting to fail, so he won’t make a move until morning.”

The soldier saluted, still glowing furiously, and turned to head back to his unit. Tythias smiled weakly at his new wife. “You realise we’re going to have to break our wedding celebration in the middle.”

Sathina nodded. Her smile was riveted to her face as though she were afraid it might fall away. “I knew you were a soldier, Tythias; if I’d wanted safe, I’d have married a grocer. Just be careful.”